The Ruins of Gorlan ra-1

by John Flanagan

  And there, on the desk where the Baron had left it, was the single sheet of paper that held the answer to Will's future. Nervously, he glanced around the room. The Baron's huge, high-backed chair stood like a sentry behind the desk. The few other pieces of furniture loomed dark and motionless. On one wall, a portrait of one of the Baron's ancestors glared down at him, accusingly.

  He shook off these fanciful thoughts and crossed quickly to the desk, his soft boots making no noise on the bare boards of the floor. The sheet of paper, bright white with the reflected moonlight, was within reach. Just look at it, read it and go, he told himself. That was all he had to do. He stretched out a hand for it.

  His fingers touched it.

  And a hand shot out of nowhere and seized him by the wrist! Will shouted aloud in fright. His heart leaped into his mouth and he found himself looking up into the cold eyes of Halt the Ranger.

  Where had he come from? Will had been sure there had been nobody else in the room. And there had been no sound of a door opening. Then he remembered how the Ranger could wrap himself in that strange, mottled, gray-green cloak of his and seem to melt into the background, blending with the shadows until he was invisible.

  Not that it mattered how Halt had done it. The real problem was that he had caught Will, here in the Baron's office. And that meant the end to all Will's hopes.

  "Thought you might try something like this," said the Ranger in a low voice.

  Will, his heart pounding from the shock of the last few moments, said nothing. He hung his head in shame and despair.

  "Do you have anything to say?" Halt asked him, and Will shook his head, unwilling to look up and meet that dark, penetrating gaze. Halt's next words confirmed Will's worst fears.

  "Well, let's see what the Baron thinks about this," he said.

  "Please, Halt! Not…" Then Will stopped. There was no excuse for what he had done and the least he could do was face his punishment like a man. Like a warrior. Like his father, he thought.

  The Ranger studied him for a moment. Will thought he saw a brief flicker of… recognition? Then the eyes darkened once more.

  "What?" Halt said curtly. Will shook his head.

  "Nothing."

  The Ranger's grip was like iron around his wrist as he led Will out the door and onto the wide, curving staircase that led up to the Baron's living quarters. The sentries at the head of the stairs looked up in surprise at the sight of the grim-faced Ranger and the boy beside him. At a brief signal from Halt, they stood aside and opened the doors into the Baron's apartment.

  The room was brightly lit and, for a moment, Will looked around in confusion. He was sure he had seen the lights go out on this floor while he waited and watched in the tree. Then he saw the heavy drapes across the window and understood. In contrast to the Baron's sparsely furnished working quarters below, this room was a comfortable clutter of settees, footstools, carpets, tapestries and armchairs. In one of these, Baron Arald sat, reading through a pile of reports.

  He looked up from the page he was holding as Halt entered with his captive.

  "So you were right," said the Baron, and Halt nodded.

  "Just as I said, my lord. Came across the castle yard like a shadow. Dodged the sentry as if he wasn't there and came up the tower wall like a spider."

  The Baron set the report down on a side table and leaned forward. "He climbed the tower, you say?" he asked, a trifle incredulously.

  "No rope. No ladder, my lord. Climbed it as easily as you get on your horse in the morning. Easier, in fact," Halt said, with just the ghost of a smile.

  The Baron frowned. He was a little overweight and sometimes he needed help getting on his horse after a late night. He obviously wasn't amused by Halt's reminding him of the fact.

  "Well now," he said, looking sternly at Will, "this is a serious matter."

  Will said nothing. He wasn't sure if he should agree or disagree. Either course had its dangers. But he wished Halt hadn't put the Baron in a bad mood by referring to his weight. It certainly wouldn't make things any better for him.

  "So, what shall we do with you, young Will?" the Baron continued. He rose from his chair and began to pace. Will looked up at him, trying to gauge his mood. The strong, bearded face told him nothing. The Baron stopped his pacing and fingered his beard thoughtfully.

  "Tell me, young Will," he said, facing away from the miserable boy, "what would you do in my place? What would you do with a boy who broke into your office in the middle of the night and tried to steal an important document?"

  "I wasn't stealing, my lord!" The denial burst from Will before he could contain it. The Baron turned to him, one eyebrow raised in apparent disbelief. Will continued weakly, "I just… wanted to see it, that's all."

  "Perhaps so," said the Baron, that eyebrow still raised. "But you haven't answered my question. What would you do in my place?"

  Will hung his head again. He could plead. He could apologize. He could ask for mercy. He could try to explain. But then he squared his shoulders and came to a decision. He had known the consequences of being caught. And he had chosen to take the risk. He had no right now to plead for forgiveness.

  "My lord…" he said, hesitantly, knowing that this was a decisive moment in his life. The Baron regarded him, still half turned from the window.

  "Yes?" he said, and Will somehow found the resolve to go on.

  "My lord, I don't know what I'd do in your place. I do know there is no excuse for my actions and I will accept whatever punishment you decide."

  As he spoke, he raised his face to look the Baron in the eye. And in doing so, he caught the Baron's quick glance to Halt. There was something in that glance, he saw. Strangely, it was almost a look of approval, or agreement. Then it was gone.

  "Any suggestions, Halt?" the Baron asked, in a carefully neutral tone.

  Will looked at the Ranger now. His face was stern, as it always was. The grizzled gray beard and short hair made him seem even more disapproving, more ominous.

  "Perhaps we should show him the paper he was so keen to see, my lord," he said, producing the single sheet from inside his sleeve.

  The Baron allowed a smile to break through. "Not a bad idea," he said. "I suppose, in a way, it does spell out his punishment, doesn't it?"

  Will glanced from one man to the other. There was something going on here that he didn't understand. The Baron seemed to think that what he had just said was rather amusing. Halt, on the other hand, wasn't sharing in the fun.

  "If you say so, my lord," he replied evenly. The Baron waved a hand at him impatiently.

  "Take a joke, Halt! Take a joke! Well, go on and show him the paper."

  The Ranger crossed the room and handed Will the sheet he had risked so much to see. His hand trembled as he took it. His punishment? But how had the Baron known he would deserve punishment before the actual event?

  He realized that the Baron was watching him expectantly. Halt, as ever, was an impassive statue. Will unfolded the sheet and read the words Halt had written there.

  The boy Will has the potential to be trained as a Ranger.

  I will accept him as my apprentice.

  Chapter 6

  Will stared at the words on the paper in utter confusion.

  His first reaction was one of relief. He wasn't to be condemned to a lifetime of farmwork. And he wasn't to be punished for his actions in the Baron's study. Then that initial sense of relief gave way to a sudden, nagging doubt. He knew nothing about Rangers, beyond myth and superstition. He knew nothing about Halt-apart from the fact that the grim, gray-cloaked figure had made him feel nervous whenever he was around.

  Now, it seemed, he was being assigned to spend all his time with him. And he wasn't sure that he liked the idea at all.

  He looked up at the two men. The Baron, he could see, was smiling expectantly. Apparently, he felt that Will should greet his decision as good news. He couldn't see Halt's face clearly. The deep cowl of his cloak left his face in shadow.

&
nbsp; The Baron's smile faded slightly. He appeared a little puzzled by Will's reaction to the news-or rather, his lack of any visible reaction,

  "Well, what do you say, Will?" he asked, in an encouraging tone. Will drew a deep breath.

  "Thank you, sir…my lord," he said uncertainly. What if the Baron's earlier joke about the note containing his punishment was more serious than he thought? Maybe being assigned to be Halt's apprentice was the worst punishment he could have chosen. But the Baron certainly didn't look as if he thought so. He seemed to be very pleased with the idea, and Will knew he wasn't an unkind man. The Baron gave a little sigh of pleasure as he lowered himself into an armchair. He looked up at the Ranger and gestured toward the door.

  "Perhaps you might give us a few moments alone, Halt? I'd like to have a word with Will in private," he said. The Ranger bowed gravely.

  "Certainly, my lord," he said, the voice coming from deep inside the cowl. He moved, silently as ever, past Will and out through the door that led to the corridor outside. The door closed behind him with barely a sound, and Will shivered. The man was uncanny!

  "Sit down, Will." The Baron gestured to one of the low armchairs facing his own. Will sat nervously on the edge of it, as if poised for flight. The Baron noted his body language and sighed.

  "You don't seem very pleased with my decision," he said, sounding disappointed. The reaction puzzled Will. He wouldn't have thought a powerful figure like the Baron would care one way or another what an insignificant ward would think about his decisions. He didn't know how to answer, so he sat in silence, until finally the Baron continued.

  "Would you prefer to work as a farmhand?" he asked. He couldn't believe that a lively, energetic boy like this could possibly prefer such a dull, uneventful life, but maybe he was wrong. Will hurriedly reassured him on that score.

  "No, sir!" he said hastily. The Baron made a small, questioning gesture with his hands.

  "Well then, would you prefer that I punished you somehow for what you've done?"

  Will started to speak, then realized that his answer might be insulting and stopped. The Baron gestured for him to continue.

  "It's just that… I'm not sure you haven't, sir," he said. Then, noticing the frown that creased the Baron's forehead as he said the words, he hurried on: "I… I don't know much about Rangers, sir. And people say…" He let the words trail off. It was obvious that the Baron held Halt in some esteem and Will didn't think it was politic for him to point out that ordinary people feared Rangers and thought they were warlocks. He saw that the Baron was nodding, and a look of understanding had replaced the perplexed expression he had been wearing.

  "Of course. People say they're black magicians, don't they?" he agreed and Will nodded, not even realizing he was doing so. "Tell me, Will, do you find Halt to be a frightening person?"

  "No, sir!" Will said hastily, then, as the Baron held his gaze, he reluctantly added, "Well… maybe a bit." The Baron leaned back, steepling his fingers together. Now that he understood the reasons for the boy's reluctance, he berated himself mentally for not foreseeing them. After all, he had a better knowledge of the Ranger Corps than he could expect of a young boy just turned fifteen who was subjected to the usual superstitious mutterings of the castle staff.

  "The Rangers are a mysterious group of people," he said. "But there's nothing about them to be frightened of – unless you're an enemy of the kingdom." He could see that the boy was hanging on his every word, and he added, jokingly, "You're not an enemy of the kingdom, are you, Will?"

  "No, sir!" Will said in sudden fright, and the Baron sighed again.

  He hated it when people didn't realize he was joking. Unfortunately, as overlord of the castle, his words were treated with great seriousness by most people.

  "All right, all right," he said reassuringly. "I know you're not. But believe me, I thought you'd be glad of this appointment – an adventurous lad like you should take to life as a Ranger like a duck to water. It's a big opportunity for you, Will." He paused, studying the boy closely, seeing that he was still uncertain about the whole matter. "Very few boys are chosen to be apprentice Rangers, you know. The opportunity only comes up on rare occasions." Will nodded. But he still wasn't totally convinced. He thought he owed it to his dream to have one last attempt at Battleschool. After all, the Baron did seem to be in an uncommonly good mood this evening, in spite of the fact that Will had broken into his office.

  "I wanted to be a warrior, sir," he said tentatively, but the Baron shook his head immediately.

  "I'm afraid your talents lie in other directions. Halt knew that when he first saw you. That's why he asked for you."

  "Oh," said Will. There wasn't much else he could say. He felt he should be reassured by all that the Baron had said and, to a certain degree, he was. But there was still so much uncertainty to it all, he thought.

  "It's just that Halt seems to be so grim all the time," he said. "He certainly doesn't have my sparkling sense of humor," the Baron agreed, then, as Will looked blankly at him, he muttered something under his breath.

  Will wasn't sure what he'd done to upset him, so he thought it best to change the subject. "But… what does a Ranger actually do, my lord?" he asked. Once again, the Baron shook his head.

  "That's for Halt to tell you himself. They're a quirky group and they don't like other people talking about them too much. Now, perhaps you should go back to your quarters and try to get some sleep. You're to report to Halt's cottage at six o'clock in the morning."

  "Yes, my lord," Will said, rising from his uncomfortable perch on the edge of the chair. He wasn't sure if he was going to enjoy life as a Ranger's apprentice, but it appeared he had no choice in the matter. He bowed to the Baron, who nodded briefly in return, then he turned away for the door. The Baron's voice stopped him.

  "Will? This time, use the stairs."

  "Yes, my lord," he replied seriously, and was a little puzzled by the way the Baron rolled his eyes to the sky and muttered to himself again. This time, he could make out a few words. It was something about "jokes," he thought.

  He let himself out through the door. The sentries were still on duty on the landing by the stairs, but Halt was gone.

  Or at least, he appeared to be. With the Ranger, you could never be quite certain.

  Chapter 7

  It felt strange to be leaving the castle after all these years. Will turned back at the bottom of the hill, his small bundle of belongings slung over his shoulder, and stared up at the massive walls.

  Castle Redmont dominated the landscape. Built on top of a small hill, it was a massive, three-sided structure, facing roughly west and with a tower at each of the three corners. In the center, protected by the three curtain walls, were the castle yard and the Keep, a fourth tower that soared above the others and housed the Baron's official quarters and his private living apartments, along with those of his senior officers. The castle was built in ironstone-a rock that was almost indestructible and, in the low sun of early morning or late afternoon, seemed to glow with an inner red light. It was this characteristic that gave the castle its name-Redmont, or Red Mountain.

  At the foot of the hill, and on the other side of the Tarbus River, lay Wensley Village, a cheerfully haphazard cluster of houses, with an inn and those craft shops necessary to meet the demands of day-to-day country life-a cooper, wheelwright, smithy and harness maker. The land around had been cleared for some distance, both to provide farmlands for the villagers to tend and to prevent enemies from being able to approach unseen. In times of danger, the villagers would drive their flocks across the wooden bridge that spanned the Tarbus, removing the center span behind them, and seek shelter behind the massive ironstone walls of the castle, protected by the Baron's soldiers and the knights trained in Redmont's Battleschool.

  Halt's cottage lay some distance away from both castle and village, nestling under the shelter of the trees at the edge of the forest. The sun was just rising over the trees as Will made his way to the log cab
in. A thin spiral of smoke was rising from the chimney, so Will reasoned that Halt was already up and about. He stepped up onto the verandah that ran the length of one side of the house, hesitated for a moment, then, taking a deep breath, he knocked firmly on the door.

  "Come in," said a voice from inside. Will opened the door and went into the cottage.

  It was small but surprisingly neat and comfortable-looking inside. He found himself in the main room, a combined living and dining area, with a small kitchen at one end, separated from the main area by a pine bench. There were comfortable chairs ranged around a fire, a well-scrubbed wooden table and pots and pans that gleamed from much polishing. There was even a vase of brightly colored wildflowers on the mantel shelf, and the early morning sun streamed cheerfully through a large window. Two other rooms led off the main room.

  Halt sat in one of the chairs, his booted feet resting on the table. "At least you're on time," he said gruffly. "Have you had your breakfast yet?"

  "Yes, sir," said Will, staring in fascination at the Ranger. This was the first time he had ever seen Halt without his gray-green cloak and hood. The Ranger was wearing simple brown and gray woolen clothes and soft-looking leather boots. He was older than Will had realized. His hair and beard were short and dark, but peppered with steel gray flecks. They were both roughly trimmed and Will thought they looked as if Halt had cut them himself with his hunting knife.

  The Ranger stood up. He was surprisingly small in build. That was something else that Will had never realized. The gray cloak had concealed a lot about Halt. He was slim and not at all tall. In fact he was considerably shorter than average height. But there was a sense of power and whipcord strength about him so that his lack of height and bulk didn't make him any less daunting a figure.

  "Finished staring?" asked the Ranger suddenly.

  Will jumped nervously. "Yes, sir! Sorry, sir!" he said.